Harry Potter Victory Day
by cleo4u2
Summary: The anniversary of Voldemort's death is cursed. Famous Auror Harry Potter and his exceptional Team Four deals with the curse year after year. Along the way, he'll lose loose love and find it again. Drarry slash, character death, comfort/hurt, loosely follows the official prologue.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I own nothing.

**Summary**: The anniversary of Voldemort's death is cursed. Famous Auror Harry Potter and his exceptional Team Four deals with the curse year after year. Along the way, he'll lose loose love and find it again.

**Warnings**: Drarry slash, character death, comfort/hurt, loosely follows the official prologue.

* * *

The third anniversary of Voldemort's demise dawned bright and sunny, but Harry wasn't fooled. A day that should have been one of solemn remembrance for those fallen during the war had been turned into a National celebration of victory of Light over Dark. Dancing, drinking, and general shenanigans would occupy most of Wizarding Britain, even Hogwarts held a ball. Harry didn't understand how everyone could forget the fallen so easily, not that anyone listened to him. Ginny said it was a celebration of life, knowing they had survived; Hermione said people needed a reason to be happy again; George didn't care so long as it was good for business; but Harry firmly believed that was why the day was cursed.

The first year, Harry Potter Victory Day – whoever had named the day deserved a Crucio in Harry's opinion – had been the first break in to Gringotts since Harry himself had broken into the Lestrange's vault. The Hit Wizards had called in Auror support after discovering remnants of dark magic, which lead Harry and Ron on a seven day trip across Europe chasing a Warlock who had made off with a Dark Artifact purportedly capable of effecting time. The man planned to bring back Grindelwald, but they had managed to stop his ritual – barely. Ron had ended up in St. Mungos for a week while Harry had been confined to a desk for a month after a curse left him unable to use his wand hand for that time.

The second year hadn't been any better with the discovery of Gary Holdwrites body, the victim of an Avada Kadavra, in Knockturn Alley on HPV Day. No one had been murdered by an unforgivable since the war and every Auror worked day and night trying to find the culprit. Unfortunately, they didn't catch him for two weeks after another three bodies had piled up and the Prophet was screaming about the return of Death Eaters and malcontents.

That year also left Ron a believer in the curse after Hermione, who had graduated Hogwarts that year and only just been elected to the Wizengamot at the time, also refused his invitation to move in together on the same day, claiming it wasn't good for their careers. She had relented only the month prior, leaving Harry without a flat-mate and a sleep-deprived partner. To top that off, Neville had put in his two weeks' notice after getting a job offer to teach Herbology at Hogwarts. That left Harry's team a man short, starting, of course, on HPV Day.

Walking into the Auror's office that morning, Harry didn't know what to expect, but he knew it wouldn't be good. He was already a half hour late, thanks a broken pipe in the subway system which he had been forced to take after realizing he was out of floo powder that morning.

At Harry and Ron's suggestion, the Auror offices had been converted from a mass of cubicles to Four open, large, glass offices, one for each Auror team so they could work together in relative privacy, but the teams would also have an idea of what the others were doing. The offices were warded to reduce sound and could be made opaque if desired, though no one ever used that functionality. They were positioned around the walls of the Auror floor, the center of which was dedicated to interview rooms. The rest of the wall space was used for a break room, the Head Auror's office, two conference rooms, and the reception lobby.

The layout meant that Harry could see his office as soon as he left reception. His team, or what was left of it, was huddled about his desk whispering and looking mutinous. Ron looked the angriest of the lot of them, red faced and likely barely keeping his voice down. Angelina Johnson had her arms crossed, every line of her body defiant and brown eyes flashing angrily. Cormac McLaggen was just as red as Ron, his voice loud enough that Harry could hear him down the hall, likely feeding into, and off of, Ron's anger. Devin Harris, a muggleborn Ravenclaw, was already holding a scroll of parchment which would contain his written complaint about…whatever was going on.

The other offices Harry passed had their own Auror teams, but no one was working which meant they already knew what was going on. The sympathetic looks from the other team leaders said it was official business, but they were glad they weren't in his shoes. Being the youngest team leader and the force behind nearly all the changes to the Auror division, sympathy wasn't something Harry was used to from the senior Aurors. It only made his conviction the curse had already struck stronger.

When his team finally saw him headed their way, conversation stopped, though Ron and Cormac managed to somehow turn a brighter shade of red. Angelina became even more tense and Devin began smoothing his official request over and over again between his hands. Taking a fortifying breath, Harry pushed the door open and fixed Ron with a level gaze.

Before the others could begin talking at once, he ordered, "Alright, tell me what's going on."

The huff of an interrupted ran left Cormac, but both Devin and Angelina relaxed somewhat knowing Ron wouldn't leave out their opinions. Ron still had a hot temper, but he was Harry's second-in-command partially because he was so good at resolving team disputes.

"Neville's replacement just came in," Ron was barely controlling his temper now, but Harry had to admit he was impressed that he was doing it at all with how angry he appeared. "Just made it through training last week, got approval from the Minister," Ron had to take a deep breath, which meant his best friend was partially angry at Kingsley about whatever had happened, "and is now in with Kinna, getting the final speech."

It took most of Harry's discipline not to turn and see who was in the Head Auror's office getting sworn in, or as the Aurors affectionately called it the final speech. Kinna, who had been Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt's partner before he became Minister, was the best Head Auror the division had seen in decades. She was firm, stubborn, and intelligent, but with a temper as firey as Ron's. After defending Harry's new proposals to change the Aurors and stamp out corruption to the Wizengamot and the Prophet, she had earned Harry, and his team's, firm loyalty.

"So what's the problem?" Harry asked, keeping his gaze on his team.

"It's Malfoy," Ron hissed.

Unable to resist any longer, Harry turned to stare at the Head Auror's office. As always, she had her walls half occluded, but he could see the woman's straight black hair pulled into it's usual bun. In front of her, calm and collected as if taking tea, was Draco Malfoy in a crisp set of Auror robes. His blonde hair was longer than Harry remembered it, but the pointed face was exactly the same.

"We can't work with him," Ron was saying. "He's a Death Eater! His family housed Voldemort during the war, he tried to kill you at least twice! None of that's in his file."

"His file?" Harry repeated.

"It's on your desk," Angelina answered. "Harry, he was a torturer. Only a huge bribe could keep that off his record."

"He helped kill Dumbledore, let Death Eaters into Hogwarts," Devin supplied helpfully. "I have an official complaint about his posting here for you, Harry."

"He's a Slytherin," Cormac growled.

"We don't have House loyalty in the Aurors," Harry argued weakly as he watched Malfoy and Kinna stand, shake hands, and the Head Auror begin leading the way out of her office. Which meant there wasn't much time left to get things under control. If his team was this upset about working with Malfoy, he could only imagine how difficult the ferret was going to be. Likely, things would come to a head and he'd be damned if it was his people suffering for this stupid personnel mistake.

Turning to his team, Harry said firmly, "Look, I don't like this as much as you do. I probably like it less than anyone here except, maybe, Ron, but it's out of my hands. Kinna just shook his hand, people," Harry snapped as Cormac and Ron opened their mouths to protest again. "It's official and it's done. If we have to work with him, we do things by the book. If he's a spy, or a plant, or a Dark Wizard, we will figure it out and get him arrested and it will all be above board. Am I clear?"

The thought of getting Malfoy arrested had Cormac and Ron's eyes shining, clearly pleased with the idea. Angelina and Devin were nodding, but Harry was still worried.

"I mean it," he said, meeting first Ron's eyes, then Cormac's, "No planting evidence, no false reports. We've done a damned good job of stomping that nonsense out of the Aurors and we are not about to bring it back. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Cormac grumbled.

"Yeah, alright," Ron sighed.

Just in time as the door opened and Kinna held it aside for Malfoy to slip through.

"Team Four," the Head Auror said in her most official voice, "This is Auror Malfoy, the first recruit to pass Auror training in seven years. I'm assigning him to you, Potter, to fill Longbottom's absence. As I've been informed you all know each other, I'll skip introductions. I expect," the short woman's dark brown eyes pierced each one of them in turns, leaving no doubt she knew exactly what they'd been arguing about just moments before, "that he will be welcomed as a member of your team. Get him settled, I'm sure today is going to be busy."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said and earned a small smile from the Head Auror.

Once she left and the door swung shut behind her, he turned stiffly to Malfoy expecting that irritating, superior smirk he remembered so well. Instead the blonde was watching him calmly, posture at attention, as if he was actually waiting to be given an order he would carry out. It made Harry pause, wondering if he should give Malfoy a real shot at this. It seemed so unlikely that three years would have changed the pureblood bastard all that much. After all, the only reason he didn't have an official record of his war crimes was because Harry had spoken up at his trial to repay his mother's life debt. Surely that, and the defense of Lucius Malfoy, had been all he owed the family.

Harry just wasn't sure what to do here. When in doubt, he had always found falling back on protocol worked, at least for a while.

"Neville's desk is here," Harry motioned for Malfoy to follow him to the desk next to the door, "It's yours now, I guess."

"Thanks," Malfoy said passively as he took a seat in the swivel chair. "What are we working on?"

"We-" Ron started and Harry quickly held up a hand to cut him off.

"We're getting back to work now," he said in the soft commanding tone that his team knew meant no arguments would be tolerated. The four Aurors returned to their desks, preparing reports and tracking down leads, or whatever they were doing. Harry's team mostly worked independently on their cases, each with a job he was confident they would accomplish on their own, and come to him for help when necessary. It worked well; Team Four had the highest number of closed cases in the division.

Turning back to Malfoy, Harry was again surprised to see the absence of that irritating smirk, but did notice the angry glare grey eyes had fixed on Ron's back.

"We're working on a smuggling case," Harry said, drawing Malfoy's attention back to him, "Dark Artifacts, mostly from Egypt, that are being sold to merchants in Diagon Alley as ordinary Artifacts. Several people have been cursed, none seriously. Unfortunately there are few leads as the Artifacts are being switched out either after they leave the manufacturer or after they're delivered to the stores and we can't find a pattern to the attacks. Neville was working on breaking down the spells that were disguising the dark magic on the Artifacts. I gave that job to Cormac, but do you think you can handle it?"

"Yes," Malfoy's attention hadn't wavered for an instant, "but I'd be better suited to hunting down any Dark Artifacts currently out there."

"Duly noted," Harry hadn't expected such a mild argument, "but Angellina is already assigned that task. She's our liaison with the public and is also in charge of interviewing the shopkeepers, manufacturers, and victims so if you need those records for your work, ask her."

"Alright," Malfoy looked disappointed, but not outright mutinous for not getting his way. Maybe he had changed. "Where are the artifacts?"

Cormac, who had apparently been eavesdropping instead of working, levitated the security boxes from the pile next to his desk to Malfoy's, letting the drop rather roughly onto the flat surface. Harry shot him a look, before turning back to the blonde.

"Neville's files are in the bottom right drawer, I suggest you start with what he already learned. We have our first group meeting at lunch, then the second at five before some of us get to go home. The rest of your time is yours to pursue your assignment however you feel is best. If you need any help, my desk is right across from yours and, for the record, you answer to me. Any questions?"

"You work through lunch?" for the first time some real emotion passed across Malfoy's pointed features; he was positively shocked.

"Of course we do," Harry grinned. "Team Four is the best Team the Auror Division has, Malfoy. We work hard, play hard, and especially work through lunch. It's at one, have a report for me on what you've been doing ready then."

"Yes, sir," Malfoy sighed, opening the file drawer and looking for the summaries Neville had left for his replacement. He didn't even notice the stunned expression on Harry's face from being called Sir without any mockery. When he turned away and caught Ron's eye, he knew the redhead had also noticed, but looked more confused than anything else.

Walking to his best friend's desk, Harry sat down on the edge and asked quietly, "Come get a drink with me?"

Ron nodded and they both slipped out the door, heading for the break room. Once they were a suitable distance from Team Four's office, Harry broached the elephant in the room.

"What do you think?"

"Think you're handling this better than I would," Ron answered immediately, frowning. "You really mean to have us work with him, don't you?"

"I don't know what else to do," Harry said honestly, "He's been approved by Kinna and his teachers. He doesn't have a record-"

"Which is your fault. I told you that was a bad idea, didn't I?"

"That's the only 'I told you so' I'm going to give you," Harry sighed, "but yes you did. I still stand by that, though. I owed his mother a life debt. Telling the truth at his trial and his father's was the best way to pay that off. They still got fined, which if you ask me is the best way to hurt a Malfoy."

"He still had to have bribed someone to get in here," Ron leaned against the wall as Harry began making himself a cup of coffee with the old fashioned coffee press. There was a heated cup prepared daily by Margorie in reception, but he found making his own cup was relaxing and wasted more time when he needed to talk to Ron.

"You really think he could have bribed Corney or Dawlish?" Harry asked, referring to the Aurors assigned to approve new trainees and then guide them through the grueling training.

"No," Ron sighed again, "Well, maybe to get his application passed to take the training, but definitely not to finish it. That was why I suggested them for that position in the first place. They're old school and they can't stand Dark Wizards, but you know that. Just, Harry, it's Malfoy. Ferret face. Remember?"

"All too clearly," Harry shook his head, "I'll review his file tonight, see how he did in the training, and I'll schedule a meeting with Kinna to talk about his past, but there's really nothing else we can do."

"Unless he's a Dark Wizard plant," Ron said gloomily.

"Then we'll arrest him, like we would any other Dark Wizard, but there's no proof of that. The Malfoys have been clean since their trials. We have to accept that."

"We do?"

The stubborn set to Ron's jaw made Harry laugh.

"What do you think Hermione would say?"

That deflated his friend rather quickly, but Harry was smart enough to hid his amused grin behind the rim of his fresh cup of coffee.

"Innocent until proven guilty," Ron let out a long suffering sigh, "Yeah, yeah, I know. It's not like she's been reviewing all those old trials for the last year or anything." Clapping Harry on the shoulder, he forced himself to smile. "Come on then, we have smugglers to catch. Why were you late, anyways?"

"The day is cursed, remember?" Harry said conversationally and hid another grin as Ron groaned.

"Don't remind me."

* * *

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy had made significant progress by the time lunch rolled around. No one had spoken to the newest member of Team Four, though Harry had kept a watchful eye on him, but that wasn't exactly unusual. Some days Devin didn't speak a word until lunch and Angellina hadn't even been in the office other than for morning check in. Cormac and Ron were huddled around the former's desk, having been tasked with chasing down a suspect for questioning and hadn't paid anyone else any mind since they'd actually started working. Harry himself hadn't spoken to anyone since that morning, having kept busy with Malfoy's file and writing memos to the new Auror's teachers, Kingsley, Kinna and even Hermione in case Ron was right and Malfoy had bribed someone.

That was why, when Angellina swept back into the office with everyone's usual orders from their favorite Chinese place, Harry knew no one had asked what Malfoy wanted for lunch. That was fine if they had gotten him something generic, or if Angellina had simply forgotten their new coworker until she was already ordering the meal, but Harry doubted the reason was anything so innocent. His suspicions were confirmed as Angellina cheerfully dropped off everyone's meal at their desks, leaving Malfoy's for last, and then handed it over with a cheerful smile. To his credit, Malfoy looked equally suspicious of the meal, managing a polite thanks, but not making any motion to actually touch the food.

Apparently Ron and Cormac were in on the joke, because they didn't let that stand.

"Not hungry, Malfoy?" Ron asked with his mouth full of his chicken curry.

"Think he's too good for muggle take out," Cormac said, equally disgusting with a mouth full of pineapple pork.

"No," Harry said casually as he got to his feet. He'd managed to open his beef lo mein, but was too angry to take a bite. "I think he's just being polite and doesn't want to admit he hates, what is that, Szechuan beef? No worries, Malfoy, I like that just fine."

"Potter," Draco began as Harry dropped his uneaten container infront of the blonde and scooped up the food Angellina had left him.

"No need to thank me," Harry interrupted loudly, taking a seat there on Malfoy's desk and lifting a mouthful of spicy beef to his lips. He watched Ron turn a delicate shade of green, Cormac choke and splutter on his food, and Angellina's dark skin turn pasty white. He set the chopsticks back down in the container and brandished it at his team.

"What the hell did you put in his food?"

Three guilty sets of eyes exchanged equally guilty looks, but Harry took little comfort knowing all four of them hadn't been involved in this.

"Not going to tell me, then?" Harry demanded, his casual barely masking his anger. "So I should eat it to find out? Or better yet, how about YOU eat it and I'll have Devin give a diagnosis."

With a wave of Harry's wand, the containers flew from Angellina, Ron and Cormac's hands, landing on his own desk with a splat. Another flick conjured plates and a third split the contaminated Chinese food into equal portions in front of the guilty trio. They eyed it and Ron looked like he might actually take a bite.

"I don't need your protection, Potter," Malfoy whispered.

"I'm sure you don't," Harry said in that fake pleasant voice that was making even Devin, who hadn't done anything, look nervous, "you did pass through Auror training, but this isn't about protecting you, Malfoy. This is about my team stabbing me in the back."

"You know we don't have any problem with you, Harry," Cormac blustered. "You're our team leader; we respect you."

"Yeah, mate, it's him we can't stand," Ron said.

"Him? You mean the member of MY team that I'M responsible for? Or maybe you're forgetting I'm the only person here whose reputation is directly reflected by whether or not he can ensure his team works together. No, it has to be you've forgotten it was my idea restructure the Aurors into teams, my changes to how new Aurors – like him - are trained, and made it my BLOODY RESPONSIBILITY TO KEEP SHIT LIKE THIS OUT OF THE AURORS ALTOGETHER!"

The shout finally earned Harry the chagrin he had been waiting for and he was glad for the silencing spell he had placed on the office so the other teams wouldn't know what was happening. Lowering his voice, Harry resumed the falsely cheery tone from earlier.

"It's like you've all forgotten what it was like when Kingsley let us join the Aurors. The cute practical jokes and the 'friendly' hazing which was really all a ruse to let us know just how much we weren't wanted here once the senior Aurors found out we wanted to change the status quo. And we did, didn't we? Cleaned up this Division, got rid of the corruption, made it a good place to work. Until today when it's someone else that WE don't like."

With a wave of his wand, Harry vanished the food in front of everyone except Devin and Malfoy. Pushing off the desk, he shook his head and tiredly dropped the silencing wards.

"Harry," Angellina said softly, "we're sorry. We didn't mean-"

"Don't," Harry snapped, holding up a hand. He really didn't hear what they didn't mean. "Put your reports on my desk and get the hell out. I need a break from the lot of you."

The next fifteen minutes was spent in near silence, the veteran members of Team Four quickly scratching our their reports and dropping them onto Harry's desk before filing out one by one. To Harry's displeasure, Malfoy didn't follow suit and was still sitting in his chair, staring at him, when the door shut the fourth time. Looking up with a scowl, Harry eyed his new subordinate and then let out a long sigh.

"When I said the lot of you, that meant you too, Malfoy."

"I didn't know they would assign me to your team," was not really what Harry expected the blonde git to say.

"Well, they did and we all need to get used to it. So far I've got no reason to complain, but you better be certain I'm looking for one. You don't have a record, which is technically my doing, so I can't complain they let you in the program. From all reports you excelled in every aspect of Auror training, so I can't complain that you aren't qualified. However, we are here to catch Dark Wizards using Dark Arts and I know for a fact you are the former and know more about the later than you can let on without being sent to Azkaban. So you tell me, Malfoy, should I be happy you've been dropped in my lap?"

None of the defensiveness or entitled attitude that Harry expected crossed Malfoy's features. He merely sat back in his chair and said in a completely serious tone, "Yes."

Unable to help himself, Harry laughed and motioned with his hand for the blonde to elaborate. He did, getting up and walking across the small space between their desks to neatly set a scroll in front of Harry. Malfoy's report, he guessed. Then he said the only thing that would have made Harry agree that he should be happy to have a Malfoy in Team Four.

"I know how you can catch the person leaving the cursed objects."

* * *

"Explain it again," Harry ordered, gripping his coffee mug tightly to hide how he was positively vibrating with excitement.

As soon as Malfoy had explained his theory and plan, Harry had conjured a Patronus to deliver messages to his team ordering them back to the office. While they waited, he'd outline the plan with Malfoy and was more than satisfied it would work. He just had to get the team caught up and have the sting approved by Kinna.

Standing at the back of the office, Malfoy didn't look too pleased to be the center of everyone's attention, another surprise for Harry who was used to the blonde's nearly pathological need for attention.

"The Dark Magic is being hidden beneath a modified confundus charm," Malfoy began, just as he had for Harry. "It's been placed over the cursed objects so that when someone touches them they only feel particularly strong magic. That's also why all the objects have had quite a bit of power, so as to not draw extra attention."

"How's that going to help us catch the bastard doing this?" Cormac demanded.

"Shut up a minute and he'll tell you," Harry said, "Go on, Malfoy."

Picking up one of the evidence boxes, Draco drew out the crystal ball that had put Milly Hodglegde in St. Mungos for a week until Healers had managed to drain all the pus from the blisters that had erupted over her entire body. He held it in one hand, his own eagerness overriding whatever uncomfortable feelings he had held before.

"The way the confundus charm is layered over the curse causes instability. The magic left behind from that instability mingled with the other charm the bastard is also using, which was why it was so hard to tell what he was doing in the first place. The second spell is a stasis charm on the curse itself so that it's only activating after the object passes into the hands of a customer and not affecting any of the store clerks or business owners. What we can do is ward all the shops in Diagon Alley to remove any stasis charms as soon as they pass through the door, meaning –"

"Meaning the curse will go off on the son of a bitch planting the cursed objects as soon as he walks through the door!" Ron hooted, clapping his hands together. "When do we get started?"

"I've already put in the paper work," Harry said with a grin. "Kinna is reviewing it now, so get ready. I want this set up before dinner. Oh, and cancel your plans for the next week, boys and girls. We're on a rotating shift until we've caught him."


	2. Chapter 2

Once in Diagon Alley, they had split into pairs: Cormac and Ron, Angellina and Devin, and Harry taking Malfoy since he wasn't sure what else to do with him. Shop by shop they'd set the wards Angellina had based off Malfoy's theory until everyone was protected, even the Leaky Cauldron in the off chance their culprit changed his MO on a whim. Then they were wandering the street, disguised in their everyday robes, trying to seem like they weren't waiting for someone to get horribly cursed when they walked into a shop. The street was busy, families out celebrating HPV Day, so it was easier for the Aurors to blend in.

When it happened, Ron and Cormac were outside Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes pretending, Harry hoped, to examine the newest products displayed in the window; Angellina and Devin were walking arm in arm, as if on a date; and Harry had taken Malfoy to the Quidditch shop as he couldn't think of anywhere else it would make sense they would be seen together window shopping. The blonde git had promptly started arguing with him about broom makers making Harry want to strangle him and his idiotic notion that Clean Sweeps could ever outperform Firebolts. If he hadn't seen the way Malfoy's grey eyes kept darting around the street, locking onto each Witch and Wizard as they entered a shop in their vicinity, Harry would have thought the man had forgotten what they were really here for. He was that convincing that when everything went to hell, Harry was certain they hadn't been the ones made.

The shout from up the street was the only warning before the glass from every shop on the East side of Diagon Alley shattered outward. People screamed and began apparating away, but Harry could see too many bodies still in the street, hear too many screams from wounded, as he as he and Draco raced toward that first shout.

Another explosion took out the enchanted street lights. Now Harry could see hexes flying through the dark from one set of blasted out shop windows to another. Someone was fighting back, but he didn't know if it was his team or someone on the street.

A cutting curse came flying in his direction and he tackled Malfoy to the cobblestones. Something made an awful rending sound from behind them, but Harry didn't have time to see what. Another curse was soaring in his direction, then skidding off a shield spell two feet in front of them. Rolling off Draco, he found the blonde with wand in hand and grinned as he realized the git had kept his wits about him to cast that shield after Harry had tackled him to the ground.

"There's no way we're getting down there without getting hit," Malfoy said through gritted teeth as he and Harry rolled out of the attackers sight, using a protruding shop corner as cover.

"Did you see how many?" Harry asked and cursed as Malfoy shook his head.

Summoning thoughts of Ginny on their last date looking devastating in a white summer dress, hair tossed over her shoulder, beaming at him and laughing about something he said, Harry cast a patronus charm. "We need backup," he told the stag. "Diagon Alley, unknown number of Dark Wizards, pinned down and attempting to subdue perpetrators." He twisted his wand to end the magic that would have recorded his voice. "Go to Kinna," he ordered and looked away before the stag had even bounded away down the street.

"I have an idea," Malfoy said and Harry ducked reflexively as a curse blasted away a chunk of the wall they were hiding behind.

"We don't have all day," Harry snapped when the blonde didn't continue.

The look Malfoy gave him was searching, or conflicted, or some other emotion Harry didn't understand. He had to admit he couldn't read the blonde like he could in school. Thankfully Draco found whatever it was that he was looking for quickly and swished his wand in a familiar motion. A crash sounded from just down the street and Cleansweep 13 they had been arguing over was zooming in their direction. Pure instinct had Harry reaching out, the wood of the handle slapping into his hand.

"Of course you picked the Cleansweep," he muttered, but was already preparing to mount the broom, leaving enough room in front of him so Malfoy could could take the front and control their flying. Malfoy, however, had different ideas.

"Let me on the back."

Harry fixed him with a look; they really didn't have time to argue about this.

"You're the better flyer," Malfoy said without a single roll of his eyes nor trace of sneer on his lips. Harry very nearly fell off the borrowed broom at the shock. The other Auror took his surprise as continued protest because he added defensively, "I _am _capable of protecting us."

Instead of answering, Harry just moved forward and Malfoy clambered on to the back of the broom. With a hard kick to the ground they were airborne. One of Malfoy's arms wrapped around Harry's waist to keep him seated as he twisted to see behind and below them. He saw the other man's wand flick once in deflection and once to form a shield charm and then ignored what Malfoy was doing to focus on his flying.

Up and over the roofs they zipped, the Cleansweep handling the quick turns better than a Nimbus would have. It didn't quite have the power of the other brand, but in this situation they didn't need it. They darted across the roofs, back down into the street and straight through the broken window the Dark Wizards were firing through, over three hooded heads, towards the shops back wall. It took all of Harry's skill with a broom to bring them to a stop before they plowed into the unyielding wooden panels.

Malfoy must have trusted he would bring them to a safe stop, because he held his place on the broom until it came to a complete stop. At some point he had cast a strong shield charm before the both of them because several hexes bounced off of it before Harry could get off the broom. Malfoy followed in lockstep, his wand at the ready.

The battle that followed was more intense and fierce than any Harry could remember since defeating Voldemort. They had effectively trapped the Dark Wizards in a crossfire, making the three criminals more desperate than ever. Yet Harry didn't fear for his own safety once. At his side, Malfoy moved in perfect unison as if they had fought together a hundred times. Curses just this side of the law whipped from the blonde's wand between deflections and shield charms, timed to strike perfectly along with Harry's less harmful hexes. They moved together without need to communicate, ducking and weaving, covering each other's blind spots without thinking twice about it. They were a beautiful, graceful combination that had Harry's heart soaring with exhilaration as though they had never gotten of that broom. The Dark Wizards didn't stand a chance.

Later they would find out the battle lasted less than a minute, ending with all three suspects wrapped in some sort of spiders web that Draco – Harry couldn't bring himself to think of the blonde as Malfoy after that – had conjured once they were incapacitated. The rest of Team Four rushed through the breach in the store front, wands held at the ready, and stared in surprise from Harry and Draco to the three trussed up bodies.

Harry laughed, clapped Draco on the shoulder, and stumbled. Two hands immediately reached to grab him, Ron on one side, Draco on the other. The adrenaline had begun to wear off, leaving Harry dizzy and shaky. His best friend had already been moving to him, knowing how he would react after the battle. Yet, he hadn't been surprised Draco had caught him either, or when he helped Ron lead him to a corner where he could sit out of sight of the public eye. It was weird, but it felt right.

"Devin," Harry called; he was still in charge here and there was plenty left to do, "Set up a perimeter to the north; keep the press out of this as long as you can. Angellina, you take the south. Cormac, watch the prisoners. Ron, Draco," both the redhead and the blonde gave him startled looks at the use of Malfoy's first name, "see if there are any wounded and get a call into St. Mungos to send Mediwizards. I'll get in contact with Kinna."

Each member of his team immediately set about their assigned tasks. For a moment, Harry let himself combat the tremors in his limbs from the adrenaline's withdrawal. Then he lifted his wand and set about doing his job. Debriefing Kinna took longer than it normally would, since the situation had turned so horribly wrong. There would be another debriefing later, after he'd had a chance to debrief his team, but they had to do some damage control now or the Prophet would tear them apart.

Twenty minutes later, Harry slipped out of the blasted shop front – Twillfitt and Tattings from the look of it – and into the street again. A quick scan showed everyone exactly where they should be. Angellina and Devin had set up barriers, Cormac was guarding their three prisoners, Ron was helping several Mediwizards load injured wizards and witches onto floating stretchers, and Draco was kneeling with another Mediwitch down the street over a prone body. Both were working in a frenzy, covered in more blood than Harry had seen in a long time. He hurried to help, wondering briefly if Draco had been injured and he had been too oblivious to notice, and froze upon seeing the woman between them.

Red hair, flashing like fire in the fading sunlight, spread out in a pool of blood. Blue eyes stared sightlessly at the sky, but they should have flashed with life and joy and playfulness.

_Ginny_.

Harry was barely aware of another Healer rushing to Draco's side, pushing him out of the way so he could add his spells to the other Healer's effort. All he could see was the blood pooling beneath her head, soaking the red strands a deeper, darker ruby.

"_Ginny_!"

Ron tried to run past him, but Harry caught him about the shoulders and held him back. The Healers needed room to work and they would only be in the way. He was too numb to force the words between his lips, holding his best friend in a death grip as he struggled to go to his sister. In the end he sagged against Harry, sobbing and calling brokenly to Ginny. If she heard him, she didn't even twitch.

The brilliant light of a lumos spell chased away the shadows of the early night and lit the grisly scene in harsh detail. Ginny's skin was too pale, her eyes unblinking, but Harry could see her chest rising. Or he told himself he could because she just couldn't be dead. It had been three years since he had lost Remus, Tonks, Fred, Dumbledore, and Snape, but Harry still didn't think he could handle losing someone else he loved. So she couldn't be dead because the Universe would never break him like that, not after all he had been through. Not after all Molly and the Weasley's had been through after Fred's death.

One of the healers sagged, reaching out a trembling, bloody hand to her partner's shoulder. The man hesitated, cast one more spell before he too looked defeated. One of the Healer's transfigured a sheet and began pulling it up, over Ginny's sightless, staring blue eyes.

In his arms, Ron let out a strangled cry and collapsed completely to the cobblestones. Harry didn't try to catch him, flowing to his feet and drawing his wand. He would make them continue to help her. He would make them save her.

Abruptly his wand was blasted from his hand, sailing sharply to the left and slapping into a long fingered hand with blood stained nails. He opened his mouth to demand it back, but when his eyes met the storm grey of that hand's owner, he felt his tongue glue to the roof of his mouth. Draco's blonde hair was streaked with blood, blood soaked his Auror's robes, but it was the fresh tracks of tears down his dusty cheeks that stopped Harry.

Why would Malfoy care if a Weasley died?

"She's gone," Draco's voice was flat, as if he didn't feel the grief that shone in his eyes. "There's nothing they can do."

The words snapped Harry from his shock, hot rage surging through his veins.

"You don't know that!" he shouted. "They can fix her! Give me my wand back – give it back and I'll make sure they bring her back!"

People were staring, but Harry didn't care. Malfoy didn't either if the way his eyes never strayed from Harry was any indication.

"No," Draco said flatly.

"_Fine_," Harry snapped.

He couldn't remember being this angry, didn't think he could feel the emotion any stronger than he did at that moment. Turning on his heel, he snatched Ron's wand from the street and rose again. The Healers took several hasty steps back from him, but before he could cast a single spell, something lashed against his hand, stinging so badly that the wand fell from his grasp.

Whirling back towards Malfoy, Harry found he could get angrier after all. The blonde bastard was smirking at him, that perfect, condescending smirk he remembered so well from school. It was all he could see and all he could think was the pureblood son of a bitch was going to let Ginny die.

With a roar of pure rage, Harry flung himself at his enemy. He didn't care that Malfoy had a wand and he didn't and it didn't matter as Harry crossed the space between them before he could cast a spell in defense. They tumbled to the ground, Harry easily pinning Malfoy to the ground. His right fist connected with Malfoy's jaw with a sickening crack and pain surged down Harry's arm. Ignoring it, he swung and was gratified as his fist connected yet again.

Again and again he struck at Malfoy's perfect cheekbones and perfect nose and perfect jaw, finding it effortless to beat the shit out of the pureblood git. Ginny's blood was now indistinguishable from Malfoy's as his lip split and his nose broke under Harry's onslaught. His eyes swelled and he didn't look perfect anymore, but he was still alive when so many others weren't that Harry found he couldn't stop. If he really wanted to keep his face pretty he should have covered his head or cast a shield charm or…

Harry's fist froze in midair as the realization sank in that Malfoy wasn't making any effort, at all, to defend himself. His arms lay flat on the pavement, palms towards the sky. He hadn't tried to get Harry off him, hadn't once fought back at all. He had just accepted the beating. No one had made any attempt to stop Harry from beating Draco Malfoy to a pulp either. Not even the Mediwizards and Healers from St. Mungos.

When another punch didn't land on his face, one grey eye cracked open to peer at Harry through the swollen slit. If he hadn't been so close, Harry was certain he wouldn't have seen the grief shining there. No one had cared that Harry was hurting Draco, but Draco cared that Ginny was dead. How had he repaid that? He'd beaten the other man like Dudley throwing a tantrum.

"Are you finished acting like a child?"

Draco's voice was a croak. Harry thought he was going to be sick. Scrambling off Draco's chest, he stumbled into the wall and found his legs wouldn't support him. Ginny was dead. He had beaten Draco Malfoy and Ginny was dead.

Vaguely he was aware that Draco was sitting up, casting a spell that lowered the swelling around his eyes, then another that stopped the bleeding of his nose and lip and scalp. Harry couldn't bear to look at what he had done, already knowing no one would report the assault.

"She can't be gone, she can't," Harry whispered, pleading with the Universe more than speaking to anyone.

Of course, Draco answered anyways.

"She is," his voice was harsh and Harry flinched, though he imagined he deserved it. He still felt he deserved it when Draco grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. "She's gone, Potter. She's not coming back. You can't change that, but you bloody well better not forget about the people who ARE still here. Your team needs you. _Weasley_ needs you. Pull yourself together and act like a fucking leader."

Harry swallowed hard, but nodded to Draco's words. There would be time enough to grieve later. Right now, Ron did need him, Molly would need him soon and George especially. He couldn't just cower against the wall and wail at the world. At least, he couldn't just yet. Later, when he was alone in his flat, he could do just that, but for now he let Draco haul him to his feet.

"Malfoy…"

Harry hesitated, the apology on his lips, and Draco sneered at him again.

"Go away, Potter. Be a bloody hero already."

The familiar attitude didn't spark the rage it had before, thankfully. He could see, now, that Draco was using it to deflect from his own vulnerability. Harry still didn't know why the man cared, but Ginny's death had hit him hard.

"Thanks, Draco," Harry said instead of his apology. This earned him another sneer, but he didn't stick around long enough to let it affect him.

Hurrying to Ron's side, he hauled the redhead to his feet and sent his stag Patronus to Hermione so she would meet them at St. Mungos. He had Angellina send hers to Kinna, letting her know they had need of reinforcements and why. The words were hard to force past his lips, but he managed to say it.

Ginny was dead.

Since Devin hadn't known Ginny that long, Harry had him wait for the Aurors Kinna would send and sent Angellina and Cormac with Ginny – Ginny's body - to St. Mungo's. With Ron in tow, he followed after them; his best friend couldn't stand on his own yet.

They all knew where the morgue was, but this was different than other times they had been in this part of St. Mungos. They stopped at the waiting room, not allowed to pass into the cold rooms where bodies were kept and examined. Cold metal chairs lined the stark white room, unfriendly and uncaring of those who had just passed. Harry put Ron in one of the chairs and sent his Patronus to each of the Weasleys and Andromeda. Eventually, there would be more people to tell, the entire Harpy team for instance, but not just yet. Now was the time for family.

They didn't come all at the same time, so Harry had to tell the story over and over and over. Each time he received a different reaction, tears or anger or denial or numbed shock. Each time he offered the comfort he knew his family needed, not letting his own grief overwhelm him like it had before. He let them lean on him and they didn't notice that he needed someone to lean on, too.

The woman he loved was gone. His first love, the one he had thought he would spend his life with, have a family with. Hell, he had been talking about proposals with Ron only a few weeks ago. He had looked at rings with Hermione the other day. It felt like he was going to be swallowed whole by blackness, but he didn't let himself give in. Not yet. Not until he had made sure everyone was safely home, not until he had activated the privacy wards around his flat; then he gave in and cried and screamed until he passed out.

None of it mattered. When he woke up, Ginny was still gone.


End file.
